


Willow Potter and A Stone

by HarryFan



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Character Bashing, Female Harry Potter, Harry Potter re-write
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-04
Updated: 2014-11-05
Packaged: 2018-02-19 20:35:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2402069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarryFan/pseuds/HarryFan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Harry was female? What if events didn't occur as the book said? What actually happened in this story?<br/>This is the unknown tale of the Girl-Who-Lived. The story forgotten and shunned for speaking the brutal truth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Girl-Who-Lived

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MusicLover19](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicLover19/gifts).



> Hi all. This is MusicLover19 and yes this is my baby. Yes I know HarryFan is posting it. I feel really bad because my muse for this story ran dry rather quickly. HarryFan (a dear friend to me) has been with this story since the start and she helped me map my ideas down. So when I told her I was considering deleting it she got a little angry. So who else would be best to write this and hopefully finish it?  
> She does have another story, a fairly recent one and I do trust her to take on mine as well. I will have input in the story, I just do not have the time nor the motivation to write it. I am so sorry, I know there are several people that were waiting to see how this turned out but I do have the deepest confidence in HarryFan.  
> I will post a note on my story and delete it within the next week or two. Please give her a chance and be aware things in the first two chapter might change as she adapts it to fit her ideas for it as well.  
> \-------------------------------  
> I am hoping to have weekly updates, if not every two weeks as I do have another story which is one I have agreed to weekly updates on. I will try my best to keep this updated regularly.

To first understand this tale it would be prudent to begin at the very beginning. Our tale starts with a young girl, before she was even born plans were created around her. Plots were schemed and the fates were set.

Her parents knew nothing, only that this young girl was theirs and she needed to be kept safe from the ongoing war.

Alas, the fates stepped in and the young girl was orphaned just after she had turned one. It was then that the fates plans were changed once more, the young girl was given to her next of kin, who happened to be very different than her parents.

You see, this young girl’s Aunt and her family lives on the quiet street of Privet Drive. They weren’t the only occupants, there were several different residents.

The Henderson’s, the Griffin’s and Mrs. Figg being a select few that were often seen about doing their daily routines. Number ten held a small family, the Polkiss’ they had a young boy, who had to be no more than a year old. Each of these family’s lived ordinary lives.

Privet Drive was the last place that anyone would expect to be the home of anything outlandish behaviour, as it just was not tolerated by any of the usual residents. Unfortunately this included the young child our tale is based upon.

The Dursley’s, were an active part of the community, happy to fit into the dreary role of their neighbourhood.

This family was made of three different people; Mr. Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large moustache. His job was not one that supervised the manufacturing process, in fact, his job focused on overseeing the payments that were given to the company, however, the majority of his work was often done by his secretary.

Unlike Mr. Dursley, his wife was a complete contrast of himself. She was stick-thin and she also had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, searching for the latest gossip that had spread along the neighbours.

Like the Polkiss’, the Dursley’s also had a young child in their house. Just like most parents, both Mr. and Mrs. Dursley felt as though their son was the finest boy within the whole world.

There was one thing that did not fit the Dursley’s perfect world. They had a secret. One that terrified them. One that, if it were to get out, could potentially see them shunned within this community.

It was here that the fates were changed.

It was late one night when a man appeared on the corner of Privet Drive, cloaked in the darkness he moved swiftly towards number four. He paused every so often to check the street, almost as if he was waiting for someone else to arrive.

He stepped into a glow of light and revealed himself to the empty street. He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man’s name was Albus Dumbledore.

Albus placed a bundle of something on the doorstep before stopping to rummage through a cloak that he wore.

Finally finding it, he gently placed a letter onto of the bundle.

"Good luck, Willow," he murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone.

The bundle shifted slightly and inside, just visible, was a baby girl, fast asleep. Under a tuft of jet-black hair over her forehead was a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning.

The letter that laid onto of Willow’s bed for the night was short and very to the point. When Mrs. Dursley finds it the following morning it’ll read;

_Mrs. Petunia Dursley,_

_I regret to inform you that your sister has been murdered along with her husband._

_For eleven years a war has raged in our world and it has finally come to an end, however your niece Willow Potter is left alone and still in danger from some of the opposing team._

_It is my hope that you and your husband will care for her and in return you will have my protection from our world._

_Albus Dumbledore_

A cold breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Willow Potter rolled over inside her blankets without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside her and she slept on, not knowing she was special, not knowing she was famous, not knowing she would be woken in a few hours’ time by Mrs. Dursley’s scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, nor that she would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by his cousin Dudley… She couldn’t know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Willow Potter — the girl who lived!"

It is here that the true tale is told, the one that no one seemed to care about. This is Willow’s truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I left the first chapter as it is, purely because it is a good start (or so I think so.) I will post the next chapter (which there will be changes to) next week. So I'll see you all then.


	2. The First Year

Willow’s first nights in the Dursley’s house was tense. Understandably she would fight the idea of being taken into a bedroom, where perhaps she gained the memories of watching her mother fall before her. Willow also had trouble sleeping as perhaps these memories also came to light when her eyes were closed.

It was a tired Petunia Dursley that had put Willow on the floor one night and gone to get herself a glass of wine in preparation of the long night ahead of her. To her shock the child was nowhere to be found when she returned. Petunia had searched for the child for an hour before she noticed the ajar door under the stairs, opening it slowly she found the young girl asleep in the darkened cupboard. Unable to make herself wake the child she left her there until the morning, for the child had slept through the entire night.

The next few nights continued in such a manner, Petunia would place Willow on the floor and watch in morbid fascination as she stood on shaky legs and toddled over to the cupboard. A look back to her Aunt would be the only type of communication shared between them before the child went to sleep.

It left Petunia baffled. Vernon Dursley had questioned the silent nights and upon hearing the story he had chuckled, leaving his wife confused. Later that day Vernon had returned with a mattress that would house a large dog for a night.

“Vernon, what is that for?” Petunia had questioned her husband.

“The brat, we can’t let her sleep on the floor,” he answered gruffly.

“We should stop this,” Petunia fussed watching the two children as they did their own things. Dudley was playing with his toys, babbling away to himself, whereas Willow sat and rocked slowly, barely moving as her eyes stared unfocused.  “There is something wrong with her,” Petunia said softly.

“She went through a shock,” Vernon said soothingly. “She will be fine in a few weeks.”

Only she wasn’t.

A year passed, Willow still finding shelter in the cupboard at night. Dudley’s babbling had evolved and become chopped sentences as he communicated with his parents. Yet where Dudley spoke and screamed, Willow said nothing. No noise left her body and the blank, unfocused look often remained. There were moments of clarity that unsettled Petunia as her nieces habits were much like her mothers.

However, it was not until Willow was two years and a half that Petunia and Vernon became truly unsettled.

It was a Friday night, dinner was served and the two children were both sat with their food. Like normal, Dudley was eating at a fast rate, taking no notice as to what went into his mouth. Also like normal, Willow was leaving her food.

Often when this would happen, Petunia would end up trying to coax the young child into eating, though it frustrated Vernon.

“The girl needs to feed herself Petunia!” he said sternly before his wife could reach for the food.

“Vernon,” Petunia had warned.

“No Petunia, you do this every meal time. You cannot keep feeding her,” he pointed out.

“She is just –“

“What? A child? Dudley can feed himself,” Vernon said gesturing to his son.

“She has been through a lot Vernon.”

“No Petunia, there is no reason for this to still be going on.”

“I can’t just let her starve!” Petunia hissed.

“No shouting!” Dudley screamed happily around his food.

As the voices had risen Willow had frowned more and more. She often retreated when loud noises sounded, however being strapped into the high chair did not allow her to leave as the noises grew.

“You can and you will. She will eat when she is hungry enough!” Vernon roared as he pushed himself away from the table.

A crash sounded as a plate impacted with the wall.

Vernon and Petunia both stared at the young girl who was fighting against the restraints on the chair and then they stared at the wall opposite her. A look was shared between the two adults and they ran automatically and unbuckled each child before placing them on the floor, both running as soon as they touched the floor.

Petunia numbly began to pick up the pieces of crockery that had shattered on the floor.

“Petunia!” Vernon hissed, checking to see if Dudley was out of earshot.

“I – I didn’t know Vernon,” she whispered. “H – how could I?”

“Does it run in families?”

“I – I don’t know,” Petunia said helplessly. “My parents weren’t –“

“But hers were,” Vernon concluded darkly.

“Vernon –“

“No Petunia. I will not have a w- I will not have one in the house!” he said firmly.

“We cannot send her away,” Petunia responded just as firmly as her husband as she stood to face him. “My sister is dead. I will not send her daughter away.”

“We need to stop it then,” Vernon said.

“I don’t know how,” Petunia said, for once feeling the weariness that had threatened to take over since she saw the young child.

“We need to discourage it,” Vernon said, coming to the only conclusion he could think of. “If she views it as bad she won’t do it.”

“I don’t know if that will work Vernon,” Petunia said softly, although she could see the reason behind the thought. Her sister had practiced her magic as a child and it only grew before she got her letter. Perhaps stopping Willow practicing would stop her magic from growing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said a week but I thought I'd be good and post today, purely because I finished this last night and feel like I want to write a bit more. This is how I picture it would have gone, everything semi-normal until that first burst of magic. What are your thoughts on that?


	3. Pushing Part Breaking Point

Two years slowly passed. Willow continued to sleep under the stairs, which perhaps was the cause of her slow development.

Willow continued to worry her Aunt because of how different she was from Dudley. Dudley had progressed rapidly with his speech, he had also bonded with several other children in the neighbourhood. Whereas Willow had not. She had developed some sign of language, she had begun babbling at around three years and that babbling had slowly developed into words over that next year.

Petunia had worried about her niece, she couldn’t understand why her language was not coming along. She had given in one day and taken Willow to see a doctor. After explaining that Willow had witnessed her parents die tragically (in a violent car crash, she had said), the doctor was also unsure as to what could have caused Willow’s almost non-existent speech. It was a relief for both the doctor and Petunia when Willow’s babbling grew into words. _Perhaps_ , as the doctor had said, _the_ _trauma had affected Willow in many ways and she was now overcoming this traumatic experience. She could just have been a late developer._

Since that fateful night Vernon had changed. He grew weary and short tempered. This could have been because Willow continued to show signs of magic. Anytime Willow was left alone whilst Dudley was getting attention from his parents, she would find one of his older toys. Whilst this had not been a problem to begin with, it soon became suspicious because these ‘lost’ toys continued to appear.

There was one toy that Willow would find no matter where Vernon hid it. An old teddy. It was a black dog, the fur was stiff was rough due to the times it was washed and it was limp, clearly this dog had lost the majority of it’s stuffing.

Vernon had taken to hiding the teddy throughout the night after Dudley became upset that his toy was in the hands of Willow. He first began using high shelves, only to become discouraged as the toy would disappear and reappear in Willow’s hands not an hour into the day.

Vernon was sure magic was involved.

He had stuck to the plan he made when the first incident happened. He had disciplined Willow, it had started as time-outs. After the incidents with the toys it progressed to Vernon spanking Willow.

Throughout all of these disciplines, Vernon stayed level-headed. He had promised his wife that he wouldn’t hurt their niece, he was just trying to discourage the magic she did.

It seemed as though nothing would stop Willow preforming magic.

There was one incident that caused Vernon to snap. Willow and Dudley were being showed their nursery, they were at the age where they were meant to attend so Vernon and Petunia had taken the children to look around.

Dudley had seemed ecstatic, he couldn’t wait to begin. He managed to escape the watchful eyes of his parents and play in the sand and water as they spoke with the nursery nurse. Willow had not, she stuck close to her Aunt, almost fearful of the children surrounding her.

Petunia, seeing the curiosity in the nursery nurses eyes had explained with a sigh. “Willow doesn’t really socialise. She prefers to stay by herself,” Petunia, gaining confidence from the understanding look the elder woman gave her, continued. “She is still developing her speech as well. The doctor thinks that it is due to trauma th –“

_‘Don’t like.’_

Petunia froze. She looked around the room but saw no child other than Willow near them and it was clearly no Willow who had spoken.

“Are you alright Mrs. Dursley?” the nursery nurse asked.

“Y – yes. I thought I heard something,” Petunia said softly. Willow tapped Petunia’s knee slightly to get her attention.

“Home,” was all she said.

“Can I?” the nursery nurse asked, watching the interaction. Receiving a nod, the woman knelt down next to Willow and smiled gently. “Hi Willow. My name is Sally. I’ll be one of your teachers when you come here. Do you want to go find Dudley and play?”

Willow backed away from the woman, who continued to smile, as she shook her head. She had walked back into Vernon’s legs.

_‘Home. No like.’_

Vernon froze, much like his wife had before him. He sent his wife a frightened look, which she had returned.

“I think it is time for us to go,” he said, thankful that he had stopped his voice shaking. “Petunia, go fetch Dud please, I’ll meet you at the car. Thank you so much for today. I’m afraid we didn’t keep an eye on the time though. We’ll be in touch about starting dates soon,” Vernon promised as he picked Willow up. Holding her rather stiffly he walked out of the small nursery.

“What did you do?” Vernon had hissed at the girl automatically. “You are not allowed to say things like that!” he had said to the small girl firmly. “That is a bad thing to do. You are not allowed to do it,” he said as he reached the car. He placed Willow on the floor, knowing she would stay there as he unlocked the car.

_‘Home.’_

With a jump Vernon had spun round to the girl and hit her. “Stop it!” he yelled.

Willow raised a hand to her cheek, it stung and she was shocked to find it wet. The young girl sobbed as her cheek turned red from Vernon’s hand.

“Vernon!” Petunia gasped when she saw Willow. “What did you do?”

“She needs to learn Petunia,” Vernon said firmly. “If it doesn’t stop things _will_ change.”

This was something Vernon intended to stick to. He was scared. Willow had spoken to him without talking. It shouldn’t be possible.

 _It isn’t possible_ , he thought grimly. _But it’s what them freaks do. They do the impossible._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I don't really think this chapter is up to par. It feels more filler-y than anything. I don't want to gloss over her childhood though. I think it is an important part.  
> I will say this though. Be prepared. This story is likely to get pretty dark song, I will add warnings if need be, I think they are up already but if not I'll add them.


	4. The Beginning

Unfortunately for Vernon, Willow’s mental communication did not stop after that once instance.

The few days, after Vernon’s firm handling at the nursery, were tense. Petunia kept glancing worriedly at her husband and the young girl, she seemed reluctant to leave the two alone for any short period of time. Perhaps Petunia viewed her husband’s newly found temper as a hazard as she also rarely left her own son with his father.

This of course caused loud discussions each night. Each of these arguments followed a similar script.

“Petunia this is madness!” Vernon would huff angrily when his wife brought him his coffee after the two children were sent to bed.

“No Vernon. You hit her,” Petunia would retort calmly.

“She deserved it!” Vernon said, his voice raising as his temper threatened to break. “She used her freaky powers to talk to me without talking!”

“Vernon calm down!” Petunia said firmly, shooting a glance at the cupboard where Willow resided.

“No Petunia! I told you I wouldn’t have a freak in the house and you have done nothing to stop it! If it happens again I am taking control over it. If it doesn’t stop she will be left on the streets!” Vernon bellowed.

“Vernon!” Petunia would hiss, although her voice would always be considerably weaker by this point.

Vernon would normally then leave without a word. However, the fifth night this argument occurred he walked up to his wife. Petunia stood her ground as Vernon grew closer, her eyes softened slightly as she saw what the late nights were doing to him. His stress and fatigue was obvious.

“This needs to stop,” he said softly, staring his wife in the eyes. “You told me yourself that you hated your sister, so why are you sticking up for her brat?”

Petunia had flinched hearing the words thrown at her in such a venomous way. Her only whispered reply was; “she’s only a child Vernon.”

“She is a child that needs to learn what she is doing wrong. You obviously cannot teach her that so whenever something freaky happens I’ll be the one punishing her. That child needs to learn!” the predatory glint in his eyes made Petunia shake her head firmly.

“No Vernon. She will learn without your temper!”

“Petunia,” Vernon growled as a warning.

“No. You know she is scared of you -”

“Maybe that will help her learn! God knows fear can teach children anything!”

Petunia stepped back, truly fearful. She decided to try once more. “Vernon,” she said softly, in a tone that one would use to calm a frightened animal. “She might just be recovering. Even Dr Johnson –“

Vernon reacted instantly. His face turned purple and he slapped Petunia hard on the cheek. She stepped back several paces as she watched her husband with watery eyes.

“I told you not to take her there,” he hissed, stepping closer to his wife.

“I –“  Petunia fell silent. Her excuse died before it left her mouth.

Vernon raised his hand slowly and brushed Petunia’s red cheek, not reacting when she recoiled at his touch.

“Tomorrow,” he said softly. “Take Dudley out to the zoo. Let him pick a few toys. I’ll talk to the girl and explain what will change, ok?” Vernon’s voice may have been soft but his eyes dared his wife to disagree.

It was with a defeated nod that Vernon truly smiled.

“Good,” he whispered.

Come morning Petunia had barely slept, despite Vernon slumbering with ease next to her. A huge portion of her wanted to refuse to leave him with Willow, yet she couldn’t bring herself to face her husband’s temper once more.

Petunia was sure that Vernon was not one to lash out. He was normally so level-headed. It must have been the stress of Willow’s magic, she had eventually concluded in the early hours of the morning. _Yes,_ she thought, _that must be it._

With great reluctance Petunia had fed and left the house with Dudley once Vernon woke. She had left Willow with the hope that the girl would sleep through the day.

Vernon sat at the table for an hour thinking over the best way to do what he had planned. He knew that the girl wouldn’t be able to do a lot, she was barely five years old after all. Even if she didn’t act it.

It was with a determined sigh at half past ten that Vernon stood and opened the door under the stairs. To his shock he found Willow laid on the small bed with one of the books Petunia had gotten in order to teach the two children to read.

“Out!” he barked, annoyed that the girl was already awake and seemed to have been for a while.

Willow scrambled to put the book back onto the small shelf that was above the bed before she stepped out of her sanctuary.

“I’ve got a list of chores that you will start doing,” Vernon said as soon as Willow had joined him in the hall. “Failure to do these chores will lead to a consequence, the more consequences you have the worse they will get. Do you understand?” Vernon asked sternly, his eyes narrowing as the girls head bobbed. “You will put all the toys away before any event. You will collect the laundry and put it in the washing machine. You will dust daily. You will collect the mail. You will collect and move the forks, knifes and spoons before and after each meal and you will help Petunia clean the table and dishes. You will also water and tend to the garden. Understood?” Vernon’s anger grew more at the silent nod.

“Go put the toys away,” Vernon ground out. “After that get the washing down. Then come get me and we’ll see what needs doing next.”

Vernon cursed himself as Willow left. He had picked the easier things for her to start with, _probably for the best, she is only a child after all,_ he reasoned. He decided that he would get Petunia to assist with the chores until the girl had proven herself capable of handling them. It was with a sigh that Vernon left to watch the television, giving no thought to the young girl that had just entered the spare room that had been converted into a playroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so this chapter sent shivers down my spine to write. It was so difficult to do. I don’t think I’ll go into too much detail over what happens at home but it will be briefly spoken about. Mainly because I think it’s important to know but I know it’s difficult to read (it’s difficult for me to write mainly). But generally, crap goes on. This is where we start getting darker.


End file.
